


Labyrinthine Romantic Shenanigans For All

by TheUndertaker



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-07 02:24:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1114403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUndertaker/pseuds/TheUndertaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hahahahaha HA I started this over two years ago and honestly it'S SO EMBARRASSING but I mean I am working on editing it and the story itself is probably not as bad as some</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hahahahaha HA I started this over two years ago and honestly it'S SO EMBARRASSING but I mean I am working on editing it and the story itself is probably not as bad as some

Karkat ==>

Your short, slender figure is sprawled awkwardly on the brown, patchy couch in the living room of your apartment. Well, Gamzees apartment, that is. The 48 inch flatscreen T.V. in front of you is blaring loudly, another one of your brilliant romcoms, which remain brilliant, even after the fact is denied thirty-seven times by the dicks you recognize as your friends. You turn your head slightly, so that you can see the shitty black clock hanging on the wall to your right.

"What's taking that asshole so long to get back home!?" You shout to no one in particular.

As if to answer your question, the door to your left swings open, creaking. A tall, messy haired man steps through the doorway, a bag of groceries in his left hand, a bottle of vodka in the other. 

"God Gamzee, what took you so fucking long?? I've been sitting here, starving my ass off, just for you to come home drunk AND late. By the way, you SERIOUSLY need to stop drinking, your smoking is bad enough as it is without you being drunk as well! You should be really fucking grateful you have such a considerate friend, such as ME, who actually gives two shits about you and doesn't want you to die before you turn fucking 30! Not that you'd care either way, but I wouldn't have a home if you did decide to go overboard and then end up dead on the doorstep!"

Gamzee grins, and cuts you off mid-rant by throwing a red bull into your face. 

"It's all yours, mother fucking best friend." His voice rasps slightly, probably due to smoking so much. 

"Ugh, fine, but just who were you even drinking with? You reek of perfume and cheap vodka." You growl, annoyed at him for taking his sweet fucking time. 

You look up questioningly when he doesn't reply, and a slight shiver runs down your spine, despite the four heavy comforters piled on top of you and the grey turtleneck sweater you're wearing. Gamzee is staring at you, in a way like a predator would stare at its prey, and it honestly scares you a lot.

"Uh... Gamzee? What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?" Your voice trembles slightly, which you find ridiculous. There's nothing to be scared of, Gamzee probably just isn't thinking straight after all the alcohol he's absorbed tonight. Besides, he's your best friend, as much as you hate to admit, and he's not going to do anything to you. Right?

"You know, mother fucker, you look real fuckin cute all bundled up like a little baby brother in all them blankets." Gamzees voice is slow, and almost whispering.

Gamzee sits down at the edge of the couch, near to your feet. His eyes don't stray from you, even for a second. And they still look the same. Hungry. 

Hungry for what? You find yourself thinking. Your heartbeat picks up after that crosses your mind, and you sit up a little more. You can't bring yourself to look at him, and risk seeing him look so terrifying. 

Gamzee stretches out his arm, and holds your chin in his hand, tugging upwards. Your eyes grow wide, and you bat his hand away without even thinking. 

"Gamzee, what are you even doing!?" You shout, anger starting to boil up inside of you for some reason. Why? You feel so confused, and you're not sure what's happening. You're not sure you want to know. 

"I was just thinkin', you bein' my best brother and all, maybe we could be gettin' around to making out a little, you know?" Gamzees gaze is still fixed upon you, tearing into you. 

Your stomach lurches as you take in what he said. 'Make out a little.' What? What was he talking about? You didn't have much time to think however, as Gamzee once again extended his arm, but this time he was also moving his whole body, crawling across the beaten up couch until he was nearly on top of you. His black T-shirt hung loosely from his muscular body, and his lip piercing shone with the reflections from the T.V.  
You try to move, to tell him no, anything, but you are so frozen with fear, all you can manage is a small, pitiful squeak. Gamzee takes that to mean the exact opposite of what you wanted to say, and begins removing all of the blankets, slowly. Or maybe he didn't, and was set on having sex with you even if you didn't want to. You don't care. You need to stop him. But with your heart pounding against your chest, and your throat feeling so tight you could barely breath, and your stomach feeling like you were going to vomit at an second, all you could do was just lie there, hopelessly watching as you came closer and closer to being molested by your best friend. 

Gamzee pulled the last blanket off, tossing it to the ground, and then looked down at your pants. Well, boxers. You had been home all day and hadn't bothered putting on any actual clothes, other than your favorite sweater. 

"Gamzee--" You manage to whisper, before he tugs your underwear down, way too quickly for you to stop him. 

"For such a little guy, you sure have a big-" You cut him off, by closing your legs and growling angrily at him.

"Gamzee, is this your idea of a joke!? Because it isn't funny, so you can fucking stop it!" 

Gamzees smile slides off his face, slowly. It's replaced by a scowl, a look you rarely ever see on him.

"Look mother fucker, *we* can either do this, or *I* can do this. This is fuckin going down, and I don't need no body to tell me no, you got me, brother?" He emphasizes "brother" by growling a little. His face is dark, and with his hair so wild and his scent of alcohol, he's really scary looking right now.

"Look, Gamzee-" Once again, you are cut off. Gamzee spreads you legs wide, getting between them so you can't close them anymore. He tugs at your sweater, decides he doesn't care if it's on or off, and slips his hands underneath. His fingers find your nipples, squeezing gently, and causing you to let out a tiny squeal. He lowers his head to yours, his mouth finding your mouth, and kisses you. Panicking, you bite his lip, and he jerks his head away in shock. 

"If you don't stop doin things all up and hurtful like that, I might not ever let you be stoppin this little make out session which is gonna be occurin here." He grins slyly, probably thinking he's scared you into being more cooperative, and he's partially right. You are really, really scared, especially considering that while being a young adult of twenty, you are still a virgin. As cheesy as it sounds, you'd been trying to keep it that way until you found someone really special, not your drunken friend, who'd probably already fucked some random girl at the bar.  
You can feel tears starting to well up and the corners of your eyes, and you bite your lip in an attempt to calm yourself. No way were you going to let this asshole see you crying. You look to the right, so that you won't see his face as he does these horrible things to you, and your gaze falls upon a knife on the coffee table right in front of you. Your heart catches in your throat, and Gamzee starts to rub his hand against your inner thigh.  
Quickly, you reach out and grab the knife, pointing it at Gamzees chest. You just want to scare him off, that's all. So he will stop being so crazy. So you can have your normal, stupid, space headed friend back. Gamzees eyes narrow, and his hand is reaching up to put the knife away, while he frowns and growls in anger. And then, as if in slow motion, Your hand jerks away from his, sideways, and forward. And right into Gamzees shoulder.  
Thick, red blood splashes everywhere as the knife goes straight through Gamzees flesh, burying itself deep. Blood on your cheek, blood on his shirt, blood on yours, blood is everywhere. Your eyes are wide, and you're screaming at yourself in your head, like how Gamzee is screaming right now, ripping the blade from his person, and tossing it aside, before collapsing on the couch, staring at you with a face that is more injured inside than outside. How could you do this!? What happened!? HOW? Your eyes are wide, and you can do nothing to stop the tears flowing from your eyes. Your chest aches unbearably, and you want to run away, far away, run away from it all.  
So you do. You grab your boxers, shoving you legs through them, and a pair of Gamzees pants which were hanging on a chair and are too long on you are now also having your legs shoved through them. You look back at Gamzee, with your tearstained and bloodstained face, and whisper, "I'm so fucking sorry," while trying not to sob too loudly. You bolt out the door, running out of the apartment, onto the sidewalk, trees and fences and houses and cars all a blur to you, running anywhere, anywhere but there, the image of Gamzee, bleeding, and hurt, and how, how could you do such a thing!? 

Your chest is beginning to burn, and the tears have stopped coming, from you crying so much. You slow down, turning the corner, and realize you're not sure where you are. You are standing in the front of a presumably abandoned amusement park. A merry-go-round is about fifteen feet in front of you, and a ticket booth stands directly to your left. You can see what appears to be a toppled Ferris wheel and several small roller coaster rides as well. Just looking at all this gives you a head ache. You've always hated cheery things like these, that families and couples went to to have fun. You hate it so much it gives a second to forget the terrible emptiness in your chest, but only a second. You turn to go home, and then stop.

Your home was what you just ran from, crying, after stabbing your closest friend. You no longer have a home. You have no where to go, and you where kicked out of your job recently as well, so you have no money. The realization stabs you in the chest, and you back up, hands gripping your hair, shaking your head furiously. How could you have been so stupid? How could you have let yourself hurt him like that!? HOW!? 

Lost in your thoughts, you don't realize that you've still been stepping backwards until your ankle bumps into the merry-go-rounds platform. You sit down it, and with your head still in your hands, begin sobbing quietly. Why? Why did you have to be such an idiot? Why did everything suck so much? Why do you always end up hurting everybody you get close to? 

"Hey!" 

You turn your head, hearing a very cheerful and very annoying voice. Who could that be...?

A gangly guy about your height and weight stepped around the side of the merry-go-round, glasses glimmering from the light of the streetlamp at the edge of the amusement park. His feet crunched down on some dry leaves lying on the ground, as he came closer to you. You look away, and put your head down, trying to hide in your sweater. You notice a car you hadn't seen before, was it that guys? Who even was the guy anyway!? 

Sitting down next to you, as if reading your mind, the stranger announced in his way too cheerful voice, which you had already begun to detest, "Hi, I'm John Egbert! It's nice to meet you!"


	2. Chapter 2

John ==>

You see someone enter the amusement park from where you are sitting inside of a roller coaster car. You have never seen him before, and decide to greet him, because you love making new friends and you love greeting people and you also think he looks a little cute. Actually, no you don't, you aren't gay. You see him sit down on the edge of the merry-go-round, his shoulders slumped and his face in his hands. 

Swinging your legs over the side of the car, you stride over to him. Your feet crunch on some dry leaves, and he notices you, only to turn his head away. You guess he's just a little shy, so you'll break the ice by saying something nice! 

"Hey, I'm John Egbert! It's nice to meet you!" You say, loud and clearly, a big goofy grin showing off your too-large front teeth. 

The stranger doesn't so much as twist his head to look at you, but his shoulders are trembling. You notice that the pants he is wearing are clearly too large for him, and that his hair is really messy. 

"I didn't know other people came here since this place shut down, I thought I was the only one! This amusement park holds a lot of memories for me, back when I was a kid my dad and I would come here to meet up with my friends all the time! Man, those were the days!" You try to get some kind of reaction out of him, maybe even a slight nod, but his only movement are his trembling shoulders. You can't help but note that he has a very nice build, and you wouldn't mind reaching out and touching those slim shoulders... Actually you probably would mind, because that sounds a little strange. 

It crosses your mind that he might be crying, or holding back tears, and being the ever-so-caring person you are, you absolutely must inquire about it. 

"Are you okay? If there's anything wrong, I have a great friend who could help you out a lot! She has a masters in human psychology, and she knows pretty much everything about peoples minds ever, seriously. I could call her right now and set a ti-"

"Why don't you fuck off already!? I don't want to talk to your fucking girlfriend about MY problems, and there isn't any... there isn't anythi... Oh god.." The stranger breaks off from his angry rant, sniffling a lot. He lifts his arm to wipe his nose with his sweater sleeve, taking a deep breath to calm down. It doesn't seem to work, as his sniffling and shoulder trembling only increase.

"Hey, uh, would you like a ride to my house? I mean, if you want to, you can stay the night!" You figure that he'll probably reject this offer as well, but you also figure it's worth a shot. Besides, if he does agree, you'll have more chances to talk to him about all of the problems he apparently doesn't have. 

He lifts his head slightly, and stops his sniffling. He turns so that he is facing the same way as you, although his head is hanging and he's not looking at you. He mumbles something under his breath, and then,

"Sure."

You grin widely, and stand up. 

"Come on, my car's over here!" You tug on his sleeve and walk side by side with him to your blue subaru, with him still refusing to look at you. 

"You can sit in the front-right seat, the backseats are filled with boxes because of my work, eheh, sorry!" You grin sheepishly, in an attempt to lighten the mood. And by lighten, you mean opening the car door, causing the interior lights to flicker on. The strangers face is illuminated by it, and for the first time, you can clearly see all of his features. And... blood on his cheeks?  
Your eyes widen, and you quickly reach under your seat for the First-Aid kit you keep, in case of emergencies. 

"Where's the wound!? Is it serious, when did you get it!??" You grab onto his shoulders, which was stupid because that also made you drop the First-Aid. You find yourself staring into his startled eyes, which you find are the most glowing amber-red color you have ever seen. But you don't want to waste thoughts on such stupid things, you tell yourself. Your new friend is hurt!

Although you only have a moment to think about those things, because suddenly he is tearing away from your grasp, stumbling, regaining balance, and sprinting out of the amusement park. 

"Hey!!" You shout after him, jumping into your car. You start it up as quickly as you can, and drive in the direction that the man had gone.

Karkat ==>

This stupidly kind "John Egbert" has just asked you where the wound is. He thinks that you are hurt, because your friends blood is on your face. This brings about a new flood of emotions, and without thinking, you squirm out of his grasp, and run as fast as you can in the opposite direction. Your heart beats faster than it had when you were running earlier, and you can hear the sound of a car starting. You panic, and run faster, lungs burning.  
The sidewalk comes up to hit your feet, converse tennis shoes slapping against it loudly. You can still hear that god damned car, turning out of the parking place now, you're sure.

Up ahead you see two apartment complexes next to each other, with enough space to slide in between them and not be able to be seen. So, you do that, pressing your back against the cold brick wall, holding your breath as you wait for Johns car to pass. Several minutes go by, and the you can see some very bright headlights, and that stupid blue car going by slowly, probably looking for you.

"That asshole shouldn't have his headlights on bright, there are other drivers and it's just fucking common courtesy." You mumble to yourself. You, of course, had never owned or driven a car by yourself, but when your older brother would visit you he would try to get some driving etiquette into that stupid head of yours.

You wait a few more minutes, before being completely sure that John Egbert will not be coming back. Squeezing out from between the two buildings, you look around to see if you can recognize the area. After a few minutes, you realize that this is where you would come to play with a childhood friend of yours, but since it is so dark and because you haven't been here for months, you didn't remember immediately. However, now that you do, you wonder if your friend still lives here. 

Sighing, and trudging along the cracked grey sidewalks, you try to remember just where it was that he lived. If you remember correctly, it's not that far from here, a 10 minute walk at the most. 

You soon arrive at the entrance to a cloud-grey house, with the paint peeling off in certain places. The middle step of the 3-step stairs leading up to the porch is rotted in the middle, and one of the windows on the second floor has a crack in it. You can't see any lights, and this place seems pretty much deserted. Still, it can't help to try, and if no one lives here you might be able to camp out anyway. 

You take a deep breath, and gingerly walking up the steps and onto the narrow wooden porch, you reach out your hand and knock hard on the door.  
It slowly creaks open, and a familiar looking face stares down at you, flustered and sleepy looking.

Sollux ==>

Your best childhood friend and the guy who you've had a one sided crush on for ten years is standing in front of you, blood splatters covering most of his left cheek, and wearing Gamzees hideous grey polka dotted pants. You have no idea why he's here, or why he has blood on his cheek, and you honestly don't want to know why he's wearing Gamzees pants.

"Tho, why are you here? I didn't exthpect to thee you anytime thoon." You flinch slightly at the sound of your own lisp. You where just woken up after you'd finally managed to get to sleep, at one in the morning. You really don't feel like talking, especially not to the person who'd rejected you so harshly after learning of your feelings for him. 

"Well... A lot of shit happened... And it turns out that I don't have a place to stay, so can I sleep here, just for tonight?" Karkat is staring at the ground, his hands stuffed in his pants pockets and he's biting his lower lip. He looks really upset, and since you were never the type to pry, you decide not to ask. 

"Well, thure, but I never got around to getting a bed tho all I have ith a couch." You reach up to scratch the back of your neck, and for the first time realize that all you're wearing are a pair of boxers and a grey shirt.  
"Uh, well thorry about the way I'm drethed, I gueth I wathn't paying attenthion to my clotheth... Or anything..." You can feel small butterfly of worry flap its way into your chest. Gog, sometimes you're just the biggest idiot. 

You step aside so that Karkat can enter your house, and then get punched in the stomach for asking if he'd shrunk, and with a small growl Karkat replied, "No, fuckass, you just keep on fucking growing!" and punched you again in the stomach, only more lightly. 

You guide him through the cluttered hallway, filled with various computer parts and some books on beekeeping, and even a few throwing stars, and then into the living room, which is occupied by only a tv and a blue felt couch piled with blankets.  
You notice Karkat shiver a little, and you guess he's cold so you grab a blanket and wrap it around his shoulders.  
"What are you Sollux, my fucking mother?"  
"Yeth Karkat, I birthed you from my very own vagina."  
You notice a small smile cross Karkats face, and applaud yourself for this most wondrous accomplishment.  
You and him talk for a little while, before crawling under the blankets and bro-snuggling together. 

 

The next morning when you wake up, and Karkat is talking in his sleep. You raise your hand to wake him, but then stop to listen to his words, even though you're pretty sure that that's very rude.  
"Gamzee... Oh god... fuck..." You notice that he's crying as well, and a slight panic rises in you. You shake him roughly by the shoulder, and his eyelids creep open, revealing his eyes beautiful amber-red irises.  
"I want coffee.." He groans sleepily, reaching up to rub his eyes.  
"What, you think I'm going to pay for everything you want, like I'm your mom? But justht thith onthe I will buy you thome coffee, so letth go."  
You remember to grab your pants and your glasses, because you can't see too far without them, and then manage to put on one black sock and white shoe, and one white sock and black shoe.  
"Wow, that's fucking genius Sollux, I didn't know it was possible to have such a bad fashion taste AND have three million of the same fucking shoe in different colors."  
"Hey, at leatht my clotheth fit me." You smirk at him, pointing at the ridiculously large pants he had on since last night. Gamzees pants. Your smirk falters for a second, but then you pick up Karkat and throw him over your shoulder because that feels like the appropriate thing to do.  
"Sollux..."  
"Lalalala I can't hear you my lithp ith too loud."  
"Sollux are you seriously walking with me like this in the fucking public??"  
"Why yeth Mth. Vantath I do believe I am."  
"Can you just fucking put me down???"  
"Nope."  
Karkat sighs, and you continue carrying him, which brings some odd looks from passerbys. You finally arrive at a StarBucks, where you gently place Karkat down on his feet again, gaining a sigh of exasperation and another punch in the stomach.  
"Gog, was that *REALLY* fucking necessary??"  
"Yeth Kk, how elthe wath I thuppothed to croth the threet with you?"  
Karkat rolls his eyes, and steps through the glass doors of the StarBucks, and you follow right behind, only to almost trip over him as he stops suddenly.  
"What the fuck kk..."  
His eyes are wide, staring at something. You follow his line of sight, to see an unfamiliar young man with sky blue eyes looking right back, holding a cappucino and grinning goofily.


	3. Chapter 3

Roxy ==>

"Mom, I'm gay and in love with Dirk."

Your son, Dave, had just asked you to sit down so he could tell you something important. Of course, you'd always known that he was gay and you were very glad that he finally realized it, but the moment he said 'in love with Dirk,' you felt your alcohol soaked heart tighten in panic.

"Well, that's great Dave... but why Dirk? I thought you hated the guy..?" Your words are stumbling over each other, and you trail off quietly at the end of your sentence, staring at Daves shades. Gog, you wish he wouldn't wear them so often.

"No, I've always loved him. Just, when I was younger, I didn't realize it and mistook it for dislike." Dave is staring at you, his face completely serious. It looks so different from his normal, relaxed poker face. His lips are pressed tight and his brows are scrunched together with worry.  
You sigh. Who are you to deny his sexual attraction to Dirk? Even though Dirk IS his biological father. And even if you know how Dirk is about romance. Actually, you really should tell him that he could potentially be in trouble. But you just can't, you don't have it in you.

"W-.. Well, okay.. If this is what you want... But, I would like you to talk to Rose about this. I feel a little concerned about what will happen if Dirk and you get involved in anything." You think it should be best to just have him talk to his older sister, whom he probably would feel more comfortable talking to anyway, and who reads and understands people so much better than you.

"If that's what'll get you to sleep at night, sure. But I promise you, my feelings are absolute. More absolute than Cals eyes. Shit is reaal absolute." Daves expression finally begins to soften, after realizing that you have accepted this new information.

"Welp, I'd better get going now. Terezi and Tavros are having this big-kid sleep-over, there are gonna be fuckin' dinosaur footy pajamas and juice boxes. Don't worry, Rox, we won't get too smashed up."  
Dave picked up his duffel bag, which was leaning against the couch, and was ironically printed with Teletubbies. You notice a prominent bulge at the side, which looks to be the shape of a bottle. This kid really takes after you.

After Dave has absconded with mentioned duffel bag, you lean forward to the glass-surfaced oak coffee table between the two couches. Your phone rings right before you grab it, which startles you. It appears to be Rose. How convenient. You slide your finger across the "accept call" button.

"Heyyy, Rosey."

"Hello, Mother. I have something important to discuss."

"Hey, what a coincidence, I got something to discuss too."  
You feel that your daughter may be able to hear the slight slurs in your speech. She always gave you a hard time about how much you drink.

"... I think I'll choose to ignore that you've been drinking, for now. However, that is only because there are much more pressing matters to attend to."

"Rosey, baby, unless there is someones life at stake here, I gotta have a talk about Dave, first." You state blankly.  
Rose becomes somewhat silent. "Is this about him and Dirk?" She asks, her voice quite, but clear.

"Have you heard already? Did he tell you?" You had been sure somewhere in his speech about being gay and stuff he had said you were the first person he'd told it to.

"No, I'd assumed it from the amount of time Dave spends at Dirks house. So I can presume I was correct." Roses voice is sharp, the type of voice she uses when she is accusing you of something, in this case, probably bad parenting.

"Dave has been at Dirks house? Since when has he been there, apart from when he was like five or somethin' and was havin' a birthday party there?" You recall Dave spending many a night away from home, either at Tavros' or Terezi's houses. Your chest squeezes tight, wondering whether or not he had really gone there.

"He didn't tell you? I suppose this might mean some suspicious actions could be taking place, if he wanted to keep it secret from you."

"Uh, listen, Rosey, I think I'm jsut gonna... jsut, just gonna take a little while to let this all sink in. But, if you could go around fixin' up a time for you to meet with Dave and talk about all this, that'd take a whole lot of my shoulders. Okaayyy?"

"Alright, Mother, I shall make sure to set up a time. However, don't think I'm finished talking to you. Farewell."

"Alright, byeb-" The phone clicks, and the call is ended. You stare down disappointedly at the electric blue phone. It was given to you by someone you loved, a long time ago...  
Although, she is long gone. You have someone else who you love now. You should really call her.

"Roxy?"

Calliope's sweet voice soothes your ears, the warm tones reverberating softly inside of you.

"When are you off of work today?"  
Calliope had taken up a job at the public elementary, as a student counselor. You were very proud to say that she was almost looked up to as a God, and came very highly recommended.

"The same time as always, when school ends at 2:45." You can hear the small smile she always wears when she talks. Gog, if you could survive off of sound, her voice would be all you needed.

"Haha, yeah I knew that.. Do you wanna watch a movie or something? By the way, right now I'm winkin' at you." You grin, blushing slightly. You have a habit of saying stupid things sometimes, probably because you know it makes Calliope giggle, and she has just the cutest giggle you've ever heard.

"Heheheheh, sure. But only if it's Willy Wonka and The Chocolate Factory." You were right, she did giggle.

"Which one, the one with Johnny Depp or the other one, the old one?" You had both, because Calliope always insisted on keeping any movie which had a lot of candy in it, for some reason.

"Hmmm, you choose. Oh, sorry, I have to end the call now, there's a student here." Her voice is so kind and soft, even when flustered. You love Calliope so much, you think in your head.

"Alright, byebye Calli. I'll see you after school." You smile brightly, trying to send your smiles to her via phone. You're not really sure if that's how smiles work, but it couldn't hurt to try.

"Okay, goodbye Roxy. I lo- Uh, yeah, goodbye." You swear you heard her stumble over her words, almost like she was about to say something. No, you must have heard wrong, you decide. You click the "end call" button, smile still glistening on your face.  
The smile grows smaller as you remember Dave. If he had a cellphone, you'd call him. However, he didn't really care for them because he had his Pesterchum account and that was really all he needed. You guess that he's probably okay, because he's just going to Terezi's and Tavros'. He hadn't specified which house he was going to, so you think it'd probably be a waste of time to call them.  
You get up, off of the soft, plushy, vanilla colored couch, and set about in the direction where you are sure you last put the vacuum. You stumble over a bottle of wine, and then pick it up and tuck it away into your sylladex. You'll dispose of it properly later. You stumble around for a little while longer, before finally finding the vacuum, at which you remark over the strange bronze color. You never really remember purchasing this vacuum, but you guess it doesn't really matter.

You then spend the next fifteen minutes vacuuming, only to realize that the vacuum was not turned on, and that the door had just clicked as a key unlocked it.  
You turn, facing Calliope as she walks in through the door.

"Heyyy, Calli."

Calliope bobs her head slightly, closing the door behind her. Her hand rests on the brass knob for a moment, as she turns her head to view the room. Her eyes rest on something, which she points to. It is another bottle of wine. You sigh. Calliope has told you many times that she will not talk to you for an hour after coming home if she is able to see any liquor. Sometimes you think she and Rose are in cahoots. You wish they'd just lay off.

"C'mon Calli, that was from yesterday. See, it's all gone. I can't drink that much wine in just a day." You grin crookedly, hoping for a response. Calliope just looks at you, raising an eyebrow.

You sigh again. "Fine, maybe I had a little, but I'm hardly drunk."

"Well, since you were so nice to admit it, I suppose I might consider talking. But only this one time, okay?" Calliopes grin bares her sharp canines, which you find devilishly adorable. She bends down and begins removing her shoes; small green heels with buckles. Tossing them aside, she then starts to unbutton her tuxedo-styled jacket, which is also green. She stares at you, her fingers around the second button, which is also the last.

"Well? Aren't you going to get some popcorn ready?" She knows you like watching her undress, even if it's only her outer wear. She's only teasing you, of course, but you still feel a warm flush spread up your neck.

"Ahhahahah, of course I am." You wink, and turn to the right, where the doorway to the kitchen is. Your bare, sweaty feet make soft plopping sounds on the linoleum flooring as you walk. The floor feels cold, and sends a slight shiver up your spine. You then wonder why on earth you were vacuuming this floor, when clearly a mop would have been a more efficient option.

You then open a cabinet, where you store the microwaveable popcorn. Taking one out, you tear open the plastic wrapping around it. You take another one and do the same. You know it's probably a bad idea to microwave them at the same time, but you're an adult and you get to decide what's okay and what's not, and this is something which you deem perfectly fine. Placing the packages in, (on the wrong side, but you don't see the difference) you realize that you will probably have to put them on top of eachother to fit. So that's what you do. You then close the door to the microwave and press the button for popcorn. You had forgotten to read the instructions on the packets, but you were sure this would do the same thing.  
You then set about getting a glass bowl to put the popcorn into. You barely remember where you store half of your kitchen implements, and the other half you don't remember at all. It takes you a little while of opening and closing cabinets and drawers before you finally find a glass bowl. By this time, the microwave is beeping, so you know that the popcorn is ready. Pressing the 'open' on the side of the microwave door, the smell of burning begins creeping along your nasal cavity.  
The light in the microwave reveals one completely popped bag, and one only half popped with a lot of black charcoaly bits on the edges of it. You wince, hoping the popcorn turned out okay. Pulling back the paper bits, you see that most of the popcorn is fine, apart from the unpopped kernels, and a few greyish popcorn bits here and there. You empty the popcorn into the glass bowl on the cool, cloud blue counter, listening to the maraca-like sounds of the bag being shaken empty.

"Is that popcorn ready?" Calliope calls out, loud enough to be heard, but quiet enough to still sound gentle.

"Yeah, I'm comin' over with it right now."

You walk through the kitchen doorway, past the couches, and pause momentarily to glance out the one window in the room, which took up most of the wall. Thin, lacy curtains drifted peacefully from the slight breeze coming through the slightly opened window. You could see the river from here, and it sparkled as it gushed through the earth. If you were closer, you knew you'd be able to hear it bubbling, like laughter, and the thought brings a smile to your face.  
Moving on, you pass through the doorway on the other side of the room, into the built in movie theater. You'll never understand what possessed you to build such a room, but it's built now, and that's what counts. Calliope is sitting in a round loveseat with maroon lollipop print, which is the farthest chair from the screen. The movie has already started playing, but it's only commercials and the like that are going on right now. You slide onto the chair, offering the popcorn to her.

"I see that you burnt some of it. Maybe I should make the popcorn next time, you could get hurt." She teases, taking the popcorn anyway and grabbing a fistful. She holds her fist of popcorn up to her mouth, nibbling away at the pieces, one at a time. You take some of the popcorn as well, chewing slowly and thoughtfully.

The movie finally starts, but you're too preoccupied to really notice. During your pre-movie-popcorn munching, you remembered Dave. You usually don't get really obsessed over things like this, but it could really hurt Dave badly if things turn the way you think they will. Dave is your son, so of course you don't want him hurt. You're not even sure if he really went to his friends. Come to think of it, you've noticed that he's been having these alleged "sleep-overs" quite often, even though he is 15 already. You turn somewhat cold, and stop your popcorn munching. You swallow hard. The popcorn tastes like cardboard now.

"Hey Calli.." You murmur.

Calliope doesn't appear to hear you. You suppose it doesn't really matter, because talking about it won't change anything. You just hope that Dave isn't where you think he is.

The movie plays on for a while, before Calliope shifts to face you. Her eyes are lidded slightly, making her iridescent irises shine yellow, and then green, like a peridot in changing light. She leans over, covering the short distance between you two until her face is right in front of yours. She plants a small kiss on your lips. Her lips are soft, and warm, you notice.  
"Babe...." You mumble. You can see the flush across her face. You wonder why she's doing this, she never makes the first move.  
She reaches up and tugs your chin very lightly, tilting your head to the side a little bit, to make it easier for her to kiss you. Once again, she places her lips against yours, except this time her mouth is open slightly. You part yours as well, allowing entrance if she so desired it. Her tongue slides past your lips, and into your mouth. You can taste the butter in her breath and on her tongue, and a hint of something familiar, which you can't quite identify.  
Calliope pushes you down, very gently, so that she's on top of you. She reaches her hand out and grabs one of your breasts, squeezing and massaging it. You feel a blank emptiness in your chest, your mind is so occupied with thoughts of Dave that you aren't even feeling the least bit turned on. You know you should probably tell her to stop.  
You turn your head away from hers, breaking your kiss. She stops feeling up your chest, and you look up at her.

"Listen, Calli, babe, I've got a lot on my mind right now. I don't think I can go through with this right now."  
Calliope smiles lightly, and bends down to kiss you again, but very lightly. When she lifts her head again, she's still carrying that slight smile, to show she isn't upset.

"I understand how you feel. If you don't want to, I'm not going to force you. Plus, I was almost having about to have a heart-attack, I don't know the a thing about making the first move." She laughs a little, and swings her legs over the edge of the loveseat.

"I'll be in our bedroom." She says to you as she walks towards the bathroom, probably to shower. You would join her, but you've already showered today, and you still need to think by yourself for a while longer. You sigh quietly. You can hear the sound of water running, and Calliope humming. You've always loved the sound of running water, you think to yourself, as you unknowingly drift off to sleep.

You wake up the next morning covered by a pillowy blanket, and you're not sore like you should be. Your eyes drift open, and you see that you're in your bed, with Calliope sleeping right next to you. She must have moved you, somehow. You smile, and, sleepily, pull her against you so that you can cuddle. Your mind is still very cloudy from just waking, and the scent of Calliopes fairy dust scented shampoo isn't helping it clear. You lay there for a moment, breathing in the scent.

Then, you remember Dave. You remember Dirk. You remember your suspicions from last night, and all the fairy dust clears out of your head, and you feel cold again. You turn away from Calliope, and sit with your legs over the edge of the bed. You notice that Calliope also changed your clothes, from your daywear to a silky shirt you'd purchased a while ago which had always been too big to wear. The fabric is soft and light, very comfortable. It doesn't do much to help with the slight autumn chill in the air, though.  
You get up and walk out of the bedroom, navigating through a bit of a maze of other various useless rooms, before arriving at the front room again. Actually, you're not really sure what it's called, but you've always refered to it as the "front room," because it's the first room to come into from the front door. You rub your arms, as it's a little chilly. Shivering gently, you reach down and grab your cellphone from the coffee table.  
You turn your phone on, allowing yourself to stare at its background for a minute. A cheerful, ebony haired girl stares back up at you, her sapphire blue eyes glistening. The girl who gave you this phone. You sigh again, your breath hitching a little, choking on the past. You tell yourself you have a more important thing to do, and pull up your list of contacts. You select Dirks name, and then you select "call." You put your phone up to your ear, and listen to the ringing.

"Hello?" A deep voice drawls confusedly.

"Hello, Dirk."


	4. Doomed Timeline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate timeline in which Karkat does not make that one crucial move (this exists purely for the fuck)

DOOMED TIMELINE: 23:49, OCTOBER 7TH, 2014  
==> Karkat  
You can feel tears starting to well up and the corners of your eyes, and you bite your lip in an attempt to calm yourself. No way were you going to let this asshole see you crying. You look to the right, so that you won't see his face as he does these horrible things to you, and your gaze falls upon a knife on the coffee table right in front of you. Your heart catches in your throat, and Gamzee starts to rub his hand against your inner thigh.  
You decide against using the knife against him, he may take it the wrong way and you'll never be able to be normal again. If you just stop him now, you're sure he'll go back to being Gamzee, normal and airheaded and friendly. At least, you hope he will.  
You gasp loudly as you feel his hand brush against your cock, a ball knotting up in your throat when it becomes aroused. He grins widely, moving his hand slowly along your thigh to grab your pulsating member. The places he touches are left with a prickling, cold feeling. He closes his hand around you and begins stroking; heat starting to collect. His ice blue eyes stare down, tearing into you and exposing single every part of you, and his vodka scented breath pours over you.  
An unsettling warmth crawls down your stomach and into your groin as your dick becomes fully erect. Gamzees hands are rough and dry and you're starting to feel a little achey from the lack of lubrication, and your chest feels like there's a brick in it. Gamzee stops stroking, and you, realizing that your eyes have been closed, reluctantly open them to see what's going on. You let out a gasp as you see (and feel) Gamzee taking the tip of your cock into his mouth. It's warm and damp and sends rivers of honey feelings flowing through you, and you can hardly supress another moan.  
Gamzee runs his toungue around the head of your dick, stroking the shaft relentlessly. Those blue eyes stare up at you again, making you shiver, and also cum straight into Gamzees mouth.  
He swallows, and you gasp. 

"Well, well, well, motherfucker." He mutters, leering at you. 

Your vision blurs and blacks out.

==> Gamzee 

You've just given your best friend of many years a blowjob. One that was forced onto him. Then he passed out. You can still taste saltiness on your tongue. And that's really all there is to say on the matter.


End file.
